


The One Where There's a Parent-Teacher Conference

by KatcadeCascade (DreamWings231)



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Canon Compliant, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Season 1 Part 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 00:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19073734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamWings231/pseuds/KatcadeCascade
Summary: “Ugh,” Jim grunts, dragging his hands down his cheeks dramatically, “You’re really going to make me say it?”“Yes.”The young trollhunter shakes his head in a disapproving manner but swallows up his pride. “Will you go with me to Parent-Teacher Conferences tonight?”





	The One Where There's a Parent-Teacher Conference

**Author's Note:**

> God, I love this show.

Since taking the principal position of Arcadia Oaks High School, Walt Strickler has a lot more freedom to focus on his side projects. It was quite a hassle to balance out AP history classes while also scheming against some of his students at the same time.

Angor Rot is as prickly and pathological as ever, seething at the ring that damns him. Otto Scaarbach is still impatient to serve the Pale Lady in whatever fashion. Barbara Lake, the wonderful woman that she is, is blissfully unaware of the mystical dangers her boyfriend and her son traverse in.

It has been one chaotic battle between the changeling’s side and the Trollhunter’s side to another. Strickler almost wishes for normalcy during these times to regain sanity.

Apparently that’s not going to happen today as someone knocks at his door.

Strickler was sure that Scaarbach didn’t appoint a meeting so the principal reset his desk, “Come in.”

To his surprise, Young Atlas walks in with the most forced polite smile the changeling as seen. “Good morning Mr. Strickler.”

Strickler cautiously took in Jim’s uncomfortably stiff stature and how he wouldn’t meet the adult’s eyes. “Do you need something, Young Atlas? Classes are about to start.”

Jim finally met his gaze and there are so many flickering emotions. Hesitation, embarrassment, and panic to name a few but in seconds there is a defeated look as the boy takes a breath and loosens his posture. “Mom can’t make it tonight.”

Was Strickler supposed to understand that? For the past few days he’s been busy with his changeling business and Barbara can sympathize as their schedules do not align for any dates. “Would you care to elaborate more?”

“Ugh,” Jim grunts, dragging his hands down his cheeks dramatically, “You’re really going to make me say it?”

He may not know what the boy means but Strickler will enjoy his misery with a smug grin and his chin propped up on his hand, “Yes.”

The young trollhunter shakes his head in a disapproving manner but swallows up his pride. “Will you go with me to Parent-Teacher Conferences tonight?”

That catches Strickler way off of his guard to the point where his elbow slides off, losing the support that makes him almost let his face slam onto the desktop. It’s a very inelegant sight but it’s excusable because the school planner is open right there for him to read.

Jim Lake is indeed correct. Parent-Teacher Conferences begins right after school.

“You, I-me?” Strickler gaggles out and quickly regain his composure, “In my experience, it is common that some parents are unable to make it. Tonight is not too consequential.”

“Most of my teachers are bargaining extra credit for bringing our parents,” Jim explains, “and I will take that up.”

Strickler is aware of Jim’s academic and otherworldly struggles, once more enforcing the Atlas comparison.

“So you need me,” he couldn’t help but return to smugness to see the boy’s annoyance.

“Yes,” Jim hisses between gritted teeth but he dials down the heat and sincerely says, “I do need you for this. Mom would really appreciate it.”

Strickler freezes up when those blue eyes full of vulnerability and the promise of family peer into his soul. These Lakes just somehow know how to get under his skin to tug at his cold heart.

It’s just like the first time Jim asked for help in history, before Merlin chose the boy. That tenderness and need for guidance that Strickler was proud to see in Jim’s growth in character. Oh how far away those days are now.

“Of course, Young Atlas,” he says with softness only reserved for the Lakes.

He sees how small Jim smiles. It almost pains him that Jim can’t express any happiness related to the changeling. Strickler supposes that’s what he deserves.

 

 

 

Time easily flies by for tonight since school is scheduled to be half-day for the event.

Strickler makes sure to double check on Jim’s schedule and prepares himself to act as professionally as he can as he walks with Jim through the hallways.

A few families whisper out their curiosity, specifically Miss Mary Wang who gossips with Miss Darci Scott.

At one point Councilwoman Nunez greets him with her family at her side. The adults talk politics and education district goals while Jim and Claire share numerous facial expressions about Strickler’s presence. Along with that, NotEnrique could only spare a wink while occupied in the woman’s arms.

“It’s nice to see you here Mrs. Nunez but we have our own conferences to attend,” Strickler gestures to Jim.

“Oh I didn’t know you’re doing teacher conferences now that you’re the principal,” Mrs. Nunez said.

“No actually,” he coughs a bit, “I’m acting as Young Atlas’s parent, er, not acting I mean-“

“He’s just here for me,” Jim cuts in to stop Strickler’s blabbering.

NotEnrique fills the silence with his baby giggles.

“I see, well, it was good to see you too Principal Strickler,” the councilwoman nodded and left with her family. Clare and NotEntrique did send them thumbs up behind their parent’s back.

Swallowing down the clammy feeling in his mouth, Strickler waved over yonder, “Shall we, Young Atlas?”

“Unless something goes bump in the night,” Jim casually said as if hoping a troll related issue will come crashing in.

“I assure you nothing of the sort will happen,” Strickler said. He did wish for a moment of normalcy. He has to take his cake and eat it.

 

 

 

A recurring pattern of slight embarrassment happens during introductions as to why the stand in principal is attending. It’s not like Strickler makes his and Barbara relationship known but watching the realization in his coworker’s eyes is a bit amusing.

Senor Uhl is a no-nonsense teachers and accepts the situation with little explanation or care to the personal matters. Good, at least Strickler can have a professional conversation with no awkwardness.

“Mr. Lake’s pronunciation has at least improved since the beginning. His verb placement still needs adjustment but his written exams are quite good,” the Spanish teacher reviews a few past assignments with him and points at the red ink of corrections and notes.

“I’m guessing Miss Nunez is who to thank,” Strickler teases to the boy but then Uhl hands over another paper. Most of it is in Spanish but he notices at the margins are some words hastily erased but still seeable.

“I’ve noticed that he’s been writing in the wrong language a few times,” Senor Uhl looks at Jim expectedly, “If there’s an explanation I would like to hear it.”

But then the humans look over to the changeling when he gives out a surprised laugh. Strickler tilts his head to the boy and speaks in the stone language, _“Blinky has been teaching you Trollish.”_ He checks a few other papers trying to find more, _“It looks like you still need work with the spelling.”_

 _“I try to make more time for it,”_ Jim admits and Strickler almost wants to coo at how babyish his wording is.

“It’s an old Gaelic dialect,” Strickler says to Uhl, “he must have found my old books about it.”

The teacher doesn’t look too displeased but he gaze is still intense, “Remember that this is a Spanish class, Mr. Lake.”

_“Si Senor Uhl.”_

As the two of them get up to leave for the next appointment, Stickler quips, “You certainly are a young Atlas for attempting such an old speak.”

Jim rolls his eyes but smirks and this time he speaks in Changeling tongue, _“You of all people would know that knowledge is power.”_ That gets Strickler to stop walking, amazed at how at ease the sentence was for the boy. He would never accuse of him getting beginner’s luck but then Young Atlas continues, _“Are you coming or not Strickler?”_

 

 

 

Miss Janeth somehow ties in both her roles as Math teacher and Drama teacher for her actors. But first she mistakes Strickler as only here for principal business.

“Ah Mr. Strickler, you’ve read my request for us to setup the stage for Hamilton yes?”

“I have but I’m here, as you say, standing in for Mrs. Lake.”

“Or,” Jim tries to suggest nonchalantly, “we could talk about the musical. It’s drama and history, your guys’ favorite subjects.”

The teachers share a look and back to the boy’s wilting confidence. The adults snap into teacher conference mode with them sitting at the desk as Miss Janeth reviews Jim’s test scores. The boy is currently sinking in his seat as she points at the large amount of errors.

“I understand that math isn’t for everyone but it’s the decline of the scores that’s worrying me,” Miss Janeth admits and Strickler respects her neutral tone. She’s usually passionate both on and off the stage but her demeanor is truly serious.

“Young Atlas,” Strickler watches how Jim avoids his gaze, “if this about not having enough hours in a day-“

“You know exactly how I spend my time,” he interrupts in cold tone. His gaze is even colder, “You call me Young Atlas for a reason.”

For Atlas is punished to carry the weight of the world.

Strickler may never know why Merlin pushed this heavy destiny upon a young human. The horrible thought is that Jim can handle the tolls of being the Trollhunter. The horrible reality is that Jim continues to willing be the Trollhunter, taking the weight of two worlds upon his shoulders.  

“I do know,” Strickler says perhaps a little too softly. He sees Miss Janeth’s critical eye for drama and collects himself, “You’re getting a tutor.”

“What?” Jim asks out of confusion and not anger, “How?”

“Simple, I’ll arrange the sessions and pay for them.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said unsurely, out of politeness but also out of suspicions for the worse.

“I insist. If anything your mother will be happy and,” this time it’s Strickler that avoids Jim’s eyes, “I am partially the reason why you carry so much weight.”

Jim doesn’t look happy at his justification but accepts it all silently.

Miss Janeth pipes in, “You two would be a good Hamilton and Washington.”

A bitter laugh from the boy almost scares Strickler but the quick flare of anger is there as he recites, “Call me son one more time!”

The act drops instantly which whiplashes the mood for Strickler. Jim and Miss Janeth on the other hand share a knowing smile. They end up talking more about the musical, something about how Jim doesn’t need to be a perfect singer to get the role. The more they talk the more bashful Jim appears as he thinks about taking the lead once more.

“I do think it’s possible to get the musical approved for the school,” Strickler added in, “but you’ll have to alter the choreography to remain on the main stage. The moving staircase, balcony railings, and turn table floor are very ambitious for our budget.”

Miss Janeth smiled at the two of them, “I’ve done more with less.”

Strickler and Jim leave the classroom with an odd feeling of satisfaction.

 

 

 

Coach Lawrence apparently decided that Physical Education needed to have a ‘hands on’ approach for demonstration. Since that Strickler was the principal he allowed that freedom for the sports teacher thinking it would be a simple exercise or another. He didn’t want to witness the alternative for the Health class.

Instead he and Jim walk into the gymnasium to see other students and families for the designated schedule getting ready for a mini obstacle course.

Coach Lawrence greets them at the door with a clip board as he points the students over to the starting line and the parents to the bleachers.

“Strickler!” Coach Lawrence slams a heavy and friendly pat on the changeling’s shoulders, “I see you’re here to check on the conference.”

“Actually I’m here to oversee Young Atlas’s education.”

The coach blinks a few times.

“I’m Young Atlas and he’s here for my mom,” Jim clears up.

It takes a painful few seconds for the coach to snap his gaze between the two of them. Strickler sees the ‘ _oh_ ’ realization but also catches the man sniffling.

“Are you,” Strickler begins but stares at the hand still tightly grasping his shoulder as the human goes through some sort of emotional panic, “alright?”

The boisterous laughter and enthusiasm comes back tenfold as Strickler and Jim stare at him.

Coach Lawrence pats Stickler’s back again, “I’m good Strickler. I’m just glad to see you two getting along.” He smiles brilliantly at them, “Gives me hope that I can have the same thing with my girlfriend’s son.”

Strickler and Jim share a cringed glance at each other. Jim shrugs and walks over to the starting line to do some stretches.

“To be completely honest with you Lawrence,” Strickler exhales, “I constantly feel like I’m losing whatever I have with the boy. One step forward and two back.”

“As long as we keep moving forward, we won’t lose them,” Lawrence advised, stunning the changeling. “Now let’s watch our boys race!”

“Wait what?”

Strickler doesn’t get a direct answer as Coach Lawrence shouts out to the parents about gym class and the principals of it. Taking his seat, Strickler looks over to the groups of families, just enough to accommodate for the five students at the course. He does a recount, remembering Lawrence’s words and sees that Ms. Palchuck isn’t here.

Back over to the starting line, Coach Lawrence is indeed smiling proudly at Steve Palchuck who’s currently taunting Young Atlas.

Huh.

The coach blows his whistle and Jim and Steve take the lead.

It’s a short course and yet the families cheer as if they’re at the Olympics and Strickler hopes that his own loud cheer is lost in the noise as Jim vaults over the hurdles and out pacing the bully. It ends at the rope ladder of course and a swell of joy bundles around his chest as Jim rings the bell.

Pent up with adrenaline and victory, Jim is a bouncing ball of radiance that Steve’s scowl couldn’t damper on. Jim says a humble good job to Steve but also high fives Eli Pepperjack as he runs pass to do his own attempt at the rope ladder.

“Well done Young Atlas, I never doubted you,” he said when Jim reaches him.

The boy is still panting but he crosses his arms at him, grinning, “I know. I heard you cheering.”

Strickler nodded, “Why of course.”

Jim was biting his lip to stop his smiling but to no avail. In changeling tongue he said, _“You called Steve a vessel of disastrous gas.”_

A smile finds its way onto his face, “Are you accusing me of calling a student a fart?”

This gets Jim to burst out in laughter. Behind him, Strickler sees Coach Lawrence bonding with his own boy. It’s mostly just getting the kid to demonstrate pushups but he supposes that it counts for them. Lawrence flashes the principal a supporting grin.

 

 

 

He was confused to see Jim wordlessly follow him into the car, getting the context clues to drive him home. The ride home is pleasantly quiet. Although Strickler has to constantly correct himself, it’s not his home no matter how compelled he feels to call it so.

He thinks it’ll all be over and that everything will return back to the animosity between them but the surprises don’t stop.

Jim unbuckles his seat belt and has a foot out of the car until he looks back over to Strickler and the running engine, “You do know that Mom would want to hear about tonight right?”

“Oh,” he said, _“Oh.”_ Strickler turns off the ignitions and follows Jim into ~~their home~~ the house.

“Yeah Mom’s doing her best to come home early,” Jim shrugs and this time Strickler can literally see the weight of the world on his shoulders, “and she really wanted to come by tonight but she’ll be happy to hear it all for you.”

“So you’ve said.” Strickler doesn’t know if it’s his place to ask but he risks it, “Are you happy that I went with you?”

Jim acts like he didn’t hear him. He just automatically goes to the kitchen and preps dinner.

Feeling out of place, Strickler decides to join him and recognizes the tools and fresh ingredients he bought with Barbara. “Would you like some help Young Atlas?”

The timing of his question was even better when Jim has just grabbed the knife to cut the fish. Jim looks at the knife but there’s no threatening behavior here, just hesitation. “Sure but I’m not letting you near the knives.”

“That’s fair.”

They silently work together to prep the fish and vegetables until Jim sets the fish onto the frying pat at low flames. “It’s just really weird to see you like that.” Strickler waits for the boy, sensing that he’s choosing his words carefully. “I don’t know if you care about Jim the Trollhunter or Jim, Barbara’s son. I don’t know if I want to know if you care about me.”

“Young Atlas,” Strickler says but even he’s at a loss for words, “Jim, I cared about you before the amulet or meeting your mom. But now with everything happening, it’s just very complicated.”

Jim looks at him with that same vulnerable feeling that pulls at Strickler’s heart. It looks like he’s about to say something but they hear the door open with a jingle of keys. It takes a few seconds for Jim to put on a wishful smile, “Mom’s home. Go get her favorite wine.”

“The cheap dollar store ones,” Strickler grumps but complies.

“Aw my boys are here,” Barbara enters the kitchen to kiss Jim’s cheek. She goes over for Strickler’s cheek and he sees Jim watching with same wishful smile and for once he thinks they’re on the same page. They’re both wishfully thinking of having this home and family without any hesitation or cruel complexity.

Maybe that’ll be their destiny.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want them to be happy! But the angst though! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
